


Fantasy

by magichamster



Category: Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: F/M, M/M, Multi, Sexual Fantasy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-17
Updated: 2013-05-17
Packaged: 2017-12-12 03:24:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 560
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/806630
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/magichamster/pseuds/magichamster
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Prompt at twd_kinkmeme:  Glenn/Maggie, Daryl/Glenn, fantasy. Glenn wasn't a virgin when he met Maggie - he'd already fucked one loud-mouthed redneck in the ass. I want Glenn thinking about the differences between Maggie and Daryl, what sleeping with each of them is like.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fantasy

Maggie assumes he was a virgin before they had sex, awkwardly pressed against the shelves in the pharmacy.

He's tried to tell her otherwise, embellishing stores from his past, inventing girls who couldn't get enough of him. 

Glenn can't quite bring himself to tell her the truth. After all, who'd believe he lost his virginity to Daryl freaking Dixon?

The memory's a blur, that night at the CDC. He remembers the whiskey, the teasing as he coughed at the burn in his throat. He remembers exploring the maze of rooms, ending up on a couch somewhere with Daryl, blabbering on about his life before the dead started walking. He remembers Daryl inching closer to him, murmuring his name in a way that made him shiver, though at the time he wasn't sure why.

He hadn't even known he was bisexual until Daryl kissed him.

Then there'd been hands and arms and mouths, a tangle of limbs and moans and desperate breaths. Daryl had produced a tube of lube like he'd planned this, like he knew Glenn better than Glenn knew himself.

There had been a surge of desperate arousal as he realized just how much he wanted this. Then Daryl had slicked him and started fingering himself, like a pro, like this wasn't the first time he'd done this, and Glenn stopped thinking.

The rest of the memories were a jumble of images and sensations. The tight slickness as he pushed into Daryl, the feel of hard muscles under his hands. The rocking of the couch that they now knelt on, Daryl with his head on his arms, ass in the air like some fevered dream come true. The rough fabric chafing against Glenn's knees, the sweat under his fingers as he dug them into Daryl's hips. Most of all, the way Daryl had fucking whimpered with each thrust, cock in his hand, and Glenn still can't think about it without getting hard.

In a way, sex with Maggie had been familiar, that same tight, wet heat. Her legs had been around his waist, pulling him in as they balanced awkwardly against the shelves, and she'd made breathy little moans as he fucked her. She'd been softer, with curves and breasts instead of Daryl's hard muscle. She's kissed him gently, her lips smooth and glossy. Daryl's kisses had been hard, demanding; bites instead of soft tenderness. Both encounters had been rushed, desperate, the release of weeks of built-up frustration. Both had, in their way, been kind of perfect.

Each time he tries to compare them, Glenn finds that he really just wants them both.

Maggie and Daryl, both desperate for him, working together to cover his body in kisses and nips. Daryl whispering dirty things in his ear while Maggie sucks his cock; or Maggie touching herself as Daryl pins him to a wall. He sometimes thinks of the two of them together, Daryl licking Maggie's pussy, or fucking her slowly; the contrast of the two - hard and soft, rough and gentle, female and male - making his pulse race.

Glenn thinks of fucking Daryl while he fucks Maggie, Daryl's whimpers mixing with Maggie's moans, and the thought usually makes him come hard as he touches himself, alone in his tent.

He wants both of them, yet he spends his nights alone on the cold ground wishing he could have either.


End file.
